Misty Falls (19 page)

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Authors: Joss Stirling

Tags: #Teen Thriller

BOOK: Misty Falls
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‘Mark,’ pleaded my mum.

‘No, Topaz, I’m going to have my say.’

‘But with Misty at the table, you know you won’t say it delicately. It will sound like you are attacking Alex, and none of this is his fault.’

That’s me: the baseball bat of tact. ‘Shall I go outside for a moment?’

‘No, Misty, stay and hear what I’ve got to say. It concerns you and your future.’ Dad took a mouthful of Sauvignon and swallowed. ‘I’m not attacking you personally, Alex. I’ve had my doubts about some of the ways you savants behave for a long time and now there’s this murderer among you, my misgivings have got more severe. Your community encourages unhealthy fixations. It’s not good how you have this power and no accountability. I believe you’ll find this criminal is warped by the fact he has this ability that sets him apart. You’d do better rejoining the mainstream, forgetting this soulfinder business and living ordinary lives that don’t breed this kind of perversion.’

My mum’s mouth had fallen open. ‘Mark, I didn’t know you felt this way.’

‘Well, Misty hasn’t been at home to make me as frank about my thoughts, has she? And that’s another thing: as I see it, your gift has only brought you misery, Misty. You’ve moved from school to school, never being able to outrun its problems, being bullied for being different.’

I hadn’t wanted to tell Alex about the bullying: it made me sound so pathetic.

My dad wasn’t finished. ‘I thought you might grow out of it but it’s getting worse as you grow older. I wish you could just switch it off.’

Inside, I was reeling. I understood that Dad’s worry for me and my brothers and sisters was boiling over. It was also partly defensive because, with Crystal identified as a soulseeker, he had to be more concerned about his own marriage than he had let on. Yet, it sounded very much to my ears that he didn’t like me—not the way I was. I hadn’t realized. He had always treated the bad sides of my gift as a joke, waving away my numerous embarrassments.

He hadn’t finished. ‘Now you turn up, not even seventeen yet, and say your genes or whatever have put you together with this stranger. He seems a nice enough boy, but I don’t believe in arranging your future like that. He needs to earn the right to be with you, not have you handed to him on a plate. You deserve more than that.’

‘Have you finished your starters?’ asked the waiter, seeing none of us were eating.

‘No, not yet. Please, give us a moment,’ my mum said, a definite edge to her voice.

The hapless waiter quickly retreated behind the serving screen.

I didn’t know what I was feeling. Yesterday had been the best day of my life; today was coming out close to the worst.

Mum took my hand. ‘Have you quite finished, Mark?’

Dad gave a curt nod and took a bite of his meal.

‘Then let me have my say. Alex, I am delighted to meet you. Please, forgive my husband if he sounds like he has no wish to welcome you to our family. It’s hard for him.’

‘You can’t go around apologizing for me,’ grumbled my dad.

‘When you don’t realize how rude you are being, I will damn well make your apology for you.’ Even such mild swearing was unheard of from my mother; my dad’s eyebrows winged up. ‘Give him time, please, Alex.’

‘But he’s right that I don’t deserve to be allowed into Misty’s life without earning my place,’ said Alex quietly. ‘Misty is a gift, not an award I’ve won.’

‘It’s sweet of you to put it like that, but no one earns places in our family; they are given one because we want to make them feel at home. It might mean we all need to shift up and make adjustments, but that is what we do. I’m sure Mark will remember that when he thinks about it.’ She turned to me, hand gently cupping my cheek. ‘And Misty, your gift is part of you. We know it sometimes causes you grief but one day my hope is that you will find it a strength. I wouldn’t change it; it makes you you: a refreshingly honest girl. Your dad loves you too, just as you are.’

‘Of course I love her!’ spluttered my father. ‘I just want to spare her the pain of being a misfit.’

‘Don’t use that word about our daughter! Mark, you see it as an add-on; I’m trying to tell you it is integral to who our daughter is. You can’t love one and dislike the other.’ My mum pointed at his heart. ‘It’s important you understand this, or what are you going to do when the others reach Misty’s stage in life?’

My brothers and sisters were still too young to worry Dad, though Gale with her gift for anticipating the contents of examinations was likely to soon cause headaches as she was earning an undeserved record for cheating. I really thought this was a conversation that they shouldn’t be having in front of my new soulfinder, but Alex showed no signs of wanting to bail. At least the target had moved from him to my father.

‘But wouldn’t Misty be better off just being … ’ Dad searched for a word and chose the wrong one, ‘normal?’

‘Your daughter can’t be normal, Mark. You’ve had sixteen years to get to grips with that fact.’

‘But now it makes her a target for this killer. If she didn’t have this savant label hung round her neck, she’d be safe.’

‘Don’t fool yourself. No life is completely safe.’

‘But a savant’s life has more risks attached.’

‘So does a fighter pilot’s but you wouldn’t argue that an air-force recruit shouldn’t aspire to defend us.’

‘I might, if the recruit was my own child.’

‘Then you’ll never let them be fully adult. Parenting is about knowing when and how to let go.’

‘But I bloody well don’t want to let go and see her fall into the wrong hands.’

I rubbed my sweating palms on my knees.
Sorry, Alex.

Don’t be. I get where your dad is coming from. It must be terrifying for him.

You’re kinder about him than I can be at the moment.
‘Dad?’ I broke into their argument.

‘Yes, darling?’

‘Do you really think I’d be better without my gift—not just the truth thing but the telepathy and the telekinesis and so on?’

He looked uncomfortable, reducing his seeded roll to crumbs. ‘I suppose if I could pick and choose then I’d be happy for you to have those other aspects, but I know it hurts you when the truth-telling makes things go wrong.’

‘But it hurts more to be told I’m not the daughter you want.’ I could feel tears gathering at the back of my throat.

Sweetheart, he loves you
, said Alex.

Dad swallowed. ‘I don’t mean it like that.’

‘Don’t you?’

‘If you saw your child heading into danger, wouldn’t you try to stop her?’

‘I don’t know. In this case, I think if I knew she had to take that path, I might ask to go along with her and see if I can help.’

Dad subsided into a dark silence.

Predictably, the rest of the meal was horrible. I was hurt; Alex was probably wishing he’d never met me and my family; my mum was embarrassed; and Dad was alone in Fort Normal Person thinking the rest of us needed to come on inside. Our goodbyes in the foyer didn’t solve anything. Dad gave me a longer than usual hug, but he couldn’t take back what he’d said. That’s the problem with my gift: there’s no defence like you hear politicians use:
I was misunderstood, I misspoke,
or
my remarks were taken out of context.
I megaphone the truth, leaving no one in any doubt of what was said and what they heard.

Exiling myself to the North Pole, like Frankenstein’s monster did when he found his effect on others too much of a burden, seemed a very attractive idea.

In answer to this stray notion, Alex projected a picture of him and me sitting in an igloo side by side.

I’m sorry.

Don’t be.

He was awful.

He was worried sick. Believe me, an excessively concerned parent is better than the kind I’ve got.

We had reached the punts again.

Let’s sit in one of them,
suggested Alex.

They’re locked up.

And that’s a problem?

Alex went first, then beckoned me to follow once he’d done his thing. He handed me into the punt with a sweet little bow. There were no cushions and it was a bit damp under the seat, but it felt good just to sit for a moment, bobbing gently on the Cam. The lights of a pub spilled onto the water, early Christmas decorations sparkling in the window. The clamour of people shouting to make themselves heard at the bar reached us like the roar of a distant battle. Down where we were in the shadows, it was quiet. I could hear the trickle of a stream joining the main channel, the slap and slop of water hitting the side of the punt. Rocking the boat, Alex sat down next to me and put his arm around my shoulders, his strength offered for my support.

‘Better?’

I rested my head on him. ‘Yes.’

‘Maybe next time I should see him alone—use my gift to straighten things out.’

‘He wouldn’t ever trust you if he realized what you were doing.’

‘I guess not.’ Alex tapped his free hand on his knee in irritation. ‘The one guy in the world I care most about impressing and I can’t do what I’m good at doing.’

‘You don’t need that—you shouldn’t need to use your gift. He’ll have to accept you for what you are, not what you make him think you are.’

‘And what’s that? A boy with no background and a skill he hates? Yeah, sure he’ll like me.’

His irony hurt. ‘Please, don’t. It feels like you’re drilling my teeth when you say something meaning the opposite.’

‘Sorry. I forgot for a moment.’ He puffed out a breath of pure frustration. ‘This isn’t easy, is it?’

‘Did you think it would be?’

‘I didn’t think at all. I didn’t expect you in my life.’

I was feeling exhausted and ready to weep but I hated that he might think he was matched with an emotional wreck. ‘Could we just drop the subject, Alex? Think about something else?’

‘Sorry. I didn’t mean for us to sit here going over what happened. I wanted to spend a few moments at peace. Just you and me.’

Things felt right when we stopped struggling. Our togetherness needed no excusing or questioning; it just was. I was beginning to see that this was the heart of a soulfinder bond.

After five minutes of calm had flowed past like the water in the river, I was ready to be optimistic.

‘You’ll win him over,’ I said. ‘You’re amazing, and kind, and caring—when he sees what I see, he’ll be happy for me.’

Alex dropped a kiss on the top of my head. ‘I hope so, Misty. I’ve never wanted anything so much as you in my life and he is a big part of your world.’

I pulled away so I could look him in the eyes. ‘Yes, he’s important, but Alex, you are too. It won’t come to this but if I had to choose between you, you’d win.’

He looked a little confused. ‘No one has ever put me first. Never.’

‘Well, now they do. I do. So get used to it.’ I leaned in for a kiss.

‘Oh, I could very quickly get used to that.’ He smiled and brushed a thumb over my lips, coaxing them apart. He then put his mouth to mine.

 

 

 

Even though my life was right in the middle of its biggest ever Misty moment, Summer and Angel had to return to their homes on Sunday. Angel had thought up some pretty inventive excuses, hoping to be allowed to stay, but her mum wasn’t buying it and Angel was given her marching orders. Summer knew better than to ask at her home for a favour and had already texted that she was on her way. Alex and I accompanied them to see them catch their train. This wasn’t something I usually did when they visited—I just waved them off on the bus to the station—so Angel claimed we were behaving like the sheriffs running her out of town. Alex agreed, teasing her that this town wasn’t big enough for the both of them, then he pretended to twirl his imaginary pistols. I fell just a little more in love with him for that; Angel adored someone making fun of her.

Ticket purchased, Summer gave me a hug, promising that my dad would come round.

‘You don’t know that,’ I whispered so Alex wouldn’t hear. Fortunately he was busy putting a make-believe Stetson on Angel’s head.

‘No, but it stands to reason. Look on the bright side: you’ve caught yourself a good one in Alex and you’ve plenty of time to convince your dad you’re serious about each other.’

‘Thanks, Summer. You’re always so sensible. I wish you ran the world.’

Angel broke away from Alex and tweaked the end of my scarf. ‘I’m so jealous. I think I’m going to have to learn to hate you.’

‘Don’t envy me. It’s not all sweetness and light in Devon Central.’

‘Yeah, your dad. But come on, girl, you’ve got Alex as your soulfinder! I bet mine is going to turn out some geeky bloke with pimples who spends all his life in his bedroom hacking into the Pentagon.’

I gave her a hug. ‘Fate would not be so cruel.’

‘You sure?’

‘Even if he were ultra geeky you’d learn to love him as he is.’

‘Oh brother,’ groaned Angel, ‘is that how this soulfinder thing works? Chemistry overrules good sense? Come on, Summer, let’s go before I get too depressed to move.’

Alex put his arm around me while we waved them through the ticket barrier, a little comforting touch that said far more than words.

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